* * * * *
Just an hour after dark King Sigrant rode atop his stallion. The entire camp had been torn asunder in minutes and packed upon carts. Currently, each and every whore was unconscious as their bodies changed. In a long line of carts their naked forms were visible, each locked within an iron cage. Though many eyes strayed onto them, none dared risk the consequence of disobeying their king’s orders.
For several hours the huge train of carts and camp followers trundled east, following the army that now chased Valdadore’s dwindling force. Sigrant traveled with the dismantled camp. Behind him, his harem followed upon foot. Though they had carriages to ride in, they each had decided that the freedom of the night offered them better opportunity to realize their new limitations.
The king was impressed with their ability to keep pace. Already they had each fed upon at least two dozen other humans. Naturally they were stronger than the humans. Faster too. But with each new vampire they created, the stronger they became. He too could feel the power that had swollen within him. They each fed him with power.
Now, already feeling lifetimes away from what he had been merely hours ago, King Sigrant was forced to be careful with his reins. He had broken two sets already. Also he had to intentionally slow his words. The faster he became the faster he spoke and although he really didn’t notice, others obviously did. Throughout the majority of the night they trailed the army, growing ever nearer to the foreign capital city. King Sigrant could not wait to walk the halls of the palace as he weighed all of his new options.
Both forces moved at an astounding pace, but rather than press further and risk the camp being incomplete before the sun rose, Sigrant called a halt a full five miles out from the enemy city and ordered the camp erected again. Reports rolled in that the Valdadorians had made the city, and Sigrant was not in the mood for a siege. It would be a full two days before his siege engines and war machines caught up at this pace. He had two days to prepare and create his new army. Valdadore was in for a surprise.
* * * * *
Upon being struck by the bolt that ended his life, Seth’s life force was parted from his body as with any other being upon Thurr, though a bit of his consciousness remained in the flesh, slowly fading as the cells died, and the synapses in the brain stopped firing.
Before all connections to life had ceased in his body, however, he had been removed from the pole, and Sara had shared blood with him. Had more life energy been within him, a residue of sorts, there might have been a chance for him to rise again. As it was, the change to vampire was not immediate, requiring a person to pass through death to be reborn as a vampire. In order to complete the process, they had to start it alive, with enough energy to sustain the change. Seth’s body had contained no such thing.
Over the hours the residue of life died, Seth’s memories fading, and then something unexpected happened. Somewhere in the battle a werewolf died. Though his aura and consciousness were elsewhere, enough residue of Seth remained in the body to cause the werewolf’s life force, a force sworn to the walking god who had created it, to join with Seth’s fallen body.
With new power, the body attempted to reanimate, and Sara’s vampire blood mixed with Seth’s. Within seconds the power was expended as the vampiric properties within Seth’s body attempted to heal the massive wound in his chest.
Again the body began to fade and again another werewolf died. For a few moments healing began anew, then as before it stopped. Again and again the process repeated, and then when the body was nearly completely mended, a retreat was called. No more werewolves died. None loyal to Seth fell, no more life parted their bodies to rejoin the corpse of the deceased death mage. His body, and the last of his consciousness faded, swept away as the brain finally stopped firing random impulses.
* * * * *
Linaya was awakened by a knock upon the door, and rising from the floor she felt amazingly well rested. Running her fingers through her hair, in an effort to make it presentable, she pulled the door open to find Gumbi on the other side. He stood in his polished armor, his impatience to be on the move more than evident.
Linaya dared not delay, and stepping out of the door she smiled briefly to her escort before going out into the road at his side. Together they made their way back to and through the capital building before entering that final dark chamber they had inhabited until the night before.
Within the room, unlike the previous day, many dwarven men, most of them elderly, sat upon the ring of stools that encircled the hole in the floor. These were the dwarven thanes, each royalty in their own right. Linaya bowed low upon entering the room, showing her respect.
“My lords,” she said in greeting.
The room exploded in laughter and even Gumbi joined in, his barrel chest heaving with the sound. Linaya was beyond confused, not understanding what it was that the dwarven men found so amusing. It was not until several minutes later, when the chamber quieted, that Gumbi finally explained.
“Sorry, Lady Linaya, it seems there was a rumor that Zorbin of the Ironfist clan had returned home with a hideous human wife. The thanes only laugh because even they realize that the story is obviously untrue, and your description was greatly exaggerated to make the rumor more believable.”
“Exaggerated how?” Linaya asked, somewhat offended, though understanding a bit better the dwarven culture.
“It was said that though you were frightful to look upon, you had backside like a sack of boulders and everyone knows that the men of Ironfist are all very fond of backsides.”
Linaya laughed as well. Often Garret teased that from certain angles she appeared to be a boy, so small was her bottom.
“You’re not near as hideous as we was told neither!” one of the dwarves commented.
“Well, you see, that I can appreciate,” Linaya replied, her smile growing larger. Dwarves enjoyed giving each other a hard time. By picking on her, they were in effect accepting her.
She found herself a seat amongst the many gray beards and settled in with them to peer through the portal in the floor just as light began to brighten the darkness below.
* * * * *
Finally light was restored to the coliseum, and Zorbin stood upon the mound of stone and spikes. Summoning his blessing he peered around but found no sign of the previous night’s attacker. Assured he was at least somewhat secure, he closed off the power that flowed through him and retrieved the pack of food he had acquired.
Tearing the straps from the pack, Zorbin approached the dwarf he had killed the day prior. Removing the laces from the dwarf’s boots, and tearing off some strips of his clothing, Zorbin seated himself and got to work. Two hours later he stood again, his shattered arm bound securely to his side. Moving and stretching Zorbin assured himself that the bindings would not impede his ability to wield a weapon. Convinced, he gathered up his remaining axe and the food and water.
Setting out, he began straight back the way he had come the day before. Already familiar with the terrain he was able to make good time and by midday he found himself halfway up the ramps to the platform above. Stopping, having gained a decent vantage point of nearly half of the coliseum, he peered around the vast chamber below and within seconds located a foe. The dwarf approached him from nearly a mile off, not even bothering to disguise or hide his coming.
Zorbin wondered at the dwarf’s blessing. Was it the same man he had fought in the dark the previous night? He had no way of knowing. All he could do was wait. Sitting upon the ramp, he dared his adversary to come. Though it appeared the dwarf slowed slightly, he kept nearing and Zorbin concentrated on the upcoming battle. If he killed the dwarf, he would leave this ceremony alive.
The dwarf came and went, circling past the ramp that Zorbin sat upon. Knowing this was likely a ploy, allowing his foe to climb yet another ramp and sneak up behind him, Zorbin took matters into his own hands. Standing once again, he rushed down the ramp and gave chase. Nearly to the bottom, a split second after he had time to do anything abou
t it, he watched as a hand shot up from the stone ramp he ran down.
Closing around his foot, the protruding hand tripped him and sent him rolling down the remainder of the ramp. Hitting the stone surface below with a thud and a grunt, the dwarf who had passed was upon him. Zorbin exploded in size, but even so his enemy was extremely strong.
Finally Zorbin knew what he was up against. His remaining foes had formed an alliance. The one that now pummeled him with a pair of medium rock hammers was blessed with strength and probably endurance; the other, who now appeared, could walk through stone.
Each was a formidable foe alone, but working together, Zorbin saw little chance of defeating the pair. Though pain exploded over his body time and again as the hammers landed, bruising and splitting flesh, he realized something. He did not need to defeat them both, only one of them.
Deflecting what blows he could, Zorbin attempted to reposition his body just as the second dwarf joined in beating upon him.
* * * * *
Garret stood outside the western gate of the city until the last member of his army had gone through. Decided that no more were coming, he entered himself and ordered the gate closed. Behind him the giant doors smashed shut as wood and metal beams were dropped into place, barring them closed. More beams were placed into notches in the road and braced against the door.
Battle-weary soldiers and archers climbed the stairs up the massive walls, taking their places to defend the city without so much as a spoken order. All of them realized that this was the last stand. If they did not keep the enemy outside the wall it was all over. Taking posts upon the wall they all waited and watched for the enemy to come.
They soon realized that Sigrant’s forces had no wish to come within bowshot but instead began to set camp a few miles off, easily visible from the top of the wall. Garret paced the wall, wishing the enemy would attack. He did not want time to think about the events that had transpired. He dared not be overwhelmed by emotion. He stood and watched, waiting for the invaders to make their move. Nothing happened.
* * * * *
Linaya watched as Zorbin sat himself upon one of the ramps, an enemy approaching him from a distance, slowly. She also observed as another dwarf came from the rear and vanished into the stone of the platform complex. She realized long before Zorbin did that he was being set up, yet there was nothing she could do about it. If she were to lean through the hole and yell he would surely hear her, but she doubted that the thanes seated around her would appreciate cheating. All she could do was watch in silent agony as Zorbin took up a chase that resulted in him being savagely beaten by both of his opponents. She knew he could only take so much.
* * * * *
Zorbin, beset upon by both of his remaining competitors, only had one option available to him. Twisting his huge body to the side he placed his already shattered arm nearest his enemies. Though they beat upon him relentlessly with boot and hammer and fist, at least now they primarily beat on an arm that was already useless.
Playing possum, Zorbin closed away his blessing and instantly shrank. His sudden size shift caused his foes to rush in nearer to finish him off, thinking him unconscious. When they came within range, however, Zorbin again connected to his blessing and exploded in size. His rapid expansion tripped up both of his opponents and sent them sprawling.
Spinning upon his side, Zorbin targeted the first dwarf that he found and, kicking out with both feet, caught the dwarf square in the face. So sudden and vicious was the attack that the dwarf’s head snapped backwards to an odd angle before he crumpled to the ground in a heap.
Only one dwarf besides himself remained. Now the only thing to do was make the other dwarf submit. Zorbin rolled to his knees and climbed to his feet. Turning he located his foe who was already charging him and brandishing the pair of hammers.
Leaning into the blow, Zorbin dropped his shoulder and in turn charged the dwarf that rushed him. With his superior size, he half collided, half tripped over the smaller dwarf, and together they tumbled to the ground. Kicking and rolling, the two battered each other relentlessly, but with his greater size Zorbin came out on top, pinning the much smaller dwarf to the ground beneath him.
“Submit!” Zorbin growled.
Awaiting an answer for several moments, the other dwarf made not a sound, yet continued to squirm and fight. Raising his good hand, Zorbin balled his fingers into a huge fist before smashing the smaller dwarf full in the face. Nose, teeth, and jaw crumpled under the blow in a spray of blood. His foe gurgled.
“Now listen, you stubborn bag of bones,” Zorbin began. “You and I need to walk out of here in agreement, you see?” Zorbin didn’t wait for a reply, as he didn’t expect one. Instead he kept on talking.
“If you prefer I can sit here beating you until all your insides are jelly, but eventually you will do as I tell you.” Zorbin paused, letting his words sink in. “If you and I don’t crawl out of this damned pit in agreement they will just toss us back in, so here is what I suggest.” Zorbin told his enemy of his plan. Eventually, only moments into his speech, his opponent nodded his agreement and cautiously Zorbin climbed off the dwarf whose face was rapidly swelling beyond recognition.
Together the pair walked up the steeply sloping ramp to the surface, Zorbin helping to guide his ally. Reaching the top they paused as a ladder was lowered from above. Zorbin allowed his companion to make the climb first, and followed him up seconds later having once again returned to his normal size.
Though they lived, both dwarves were in need of healing attention and climbing through the hole they each in turn collapsed to the floor where healers appeared out of the shadows to tend to them. Several hours later, as speech was restored to one and an arm to the other, the thanes came to stand before the two dwarves. They looked upon them, already knowing what had transpired, and awaiting the words that were required.
* * * * *
Linaya watched in disbelief as Zorbin turned a terrible situation on its head. One second she was sure he was a goner, his blessing having appeared to have abandoned him. The next he exploded once more, and with a ferocious kick one of his enemies ceased to exist. Seconds later her fellow Valdadorian sat atop his remaining foe, pummeling him into a bloody mess.
Though the scene that played out before her was both brutal and violent, Linaya could not help but feel relieved and excited. Not only had Zorbin survived but he also had won. Rocking back on her heels she sighed loudly, a grin appearing upon her face. The thanes around her noted her happiness and one even dared pat her on the back, realizing that a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
Less than half an hour later the two dwarfs climbed through the portal in the floor and immediately healers rushed to their aid. After all, one of the men who climbed from that hole was officially the king of the entire dwarven nation now.
For over three hours the dwarven healers said prayers and chanted over their injured kindred. Slowly the dwarfs’ wounds vanished and as the healers finally stepped aside, their work complete, the previous king and his thanes surrounded the pair upon the floor.
Linaya watched the following moments as words were traded at first in dwarven, then switching to the human tongue to include her. It was Zorbin who spoke first.
“I, Zorbin of the Ironfist clan, swear my fealty to Dronik of the Rusty Beard clan as the one true King of the Dwarves of Boulder Gate. Furthermore, I swear to uphold my new king’s first order as is my duty as one of his subjects.”
An audible gasp came from all those gathered in the room, including Linaya herself. All of them had witnessed Zorbin pummeling the Dronik fellow nearly to death. It had been obvious what the outcome had been. Why was it, then, that Zorbin was saying that this other dwarf had won the competition?
“As king to the twelve clans and leader of the dwarven nation, I order the armies of Boulder Gate assembled and ready to march to Valdadore’s aid by morning.”
Another gasp. Though it would not be evident to Linaya until hours later w
hen Zorbin explained what had transpired, everyone else in the room realized in an instant what had happened. Though Zorbin had been the obvious victor, he was an outcast. Many considered him a traitor to their race. Had he taken the rulership of the nation it was possible that a civil war could have followed. The chances of leading a dwarven army to Valdadore’s assistance would have been slim to none. Instead, the dwarf had been wise beyond his years and had come to terms with the man he had defeated. He would trade a lifetime of leadership to the nation for a single battle campaign. Each of the thanes in their own time nodded their heads in understanding before departing the room. Linaya remained, stunned.
The old king, a gray beard of more than seven hundred years, knelt down low beside the new king and carefully removed his crown from his brow. Gently, he handed it to Dronik to usher the dwarven nation into a new age and a new generation. Rising slowly, the old king spoke some words in his native tongue before he turned and strode from the room to live out his days in peace.
Linaya watched as Zorbin and Dronik rose and each turned to face her and Gumbi who still remained.
“It seems we have a war to plan, Gumbi,” Dronik said with a thick accent to the dwarf who was his elder by at least double.
“Indeed, my king, I am happy to serve you,” Gumbi answered.
“Wait, what?” Linaya asked, obviously confused.
“Gumbi is the kingdom’s war councilor to the king. Though the thanes all lead their own troops, they all answer to Gumbi, like a general in the Valdadorian army,” Zorbin answered.
“But why did you give away the kingship to him?” she asked pointing to Dronik before realizing what it was she was doing. “Sorry, I mean no disrespect, I just don’t understand…”
Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Page 121